Bab 2744: @2
"Someone should teach that boy that he needs to respect his elders. No need for him to look down on us," Ramon agreed with his compadre.
The truth was that Peter had been reluctant to take on the two drifters but bumper crops across the Midwest meant that there was a shortage of seasonal workers so Peter had reluctantly hired them both. He didn't like their attitude but they worked hard in the fields and that's all that mattered.
Peter had gone into town that morning in his new olive green Chevrolet pickup; a gift to himself after last year's bountiful harvest. He had banking and business to attend to and a Co-op meeting to attend which would take up most of the day and the women would join him later that afternoon for an early supper after a well-earned shopping spree.
Peter's mother Margaret Balfour was only seventeen years his senior at forty two. Meg was long-legged, slim-waisted, and big-breasted. Her black hair was worn in a bob with bangs just above her big blue eyes and she preferred the conservative fashions of the fifties rather than the modern bright-coloured shifts and skirts, patterned tights and low-block heels that were now popular.
His aunt, Millicent Ryan, was three years older than her sister and had run away from home to the city as soon as she could. She'd married an advertising executive and had lived the high life, looking down her nose at her family as if they were country hicks and conveniently forgetting where she came from. Millie, as she preferred to be called, had a similar build to her sister but her hair was dyed blonde. Her dress style was totally different to her sister's; more modern and very trendy. She liked seventies chic fashions. Millie's had been a coquette who was serially unfaithful to her husband until he found out about her affair with a younger man and had thrown her out of the house penniless leaving Millie with no one else to turn to but Meg.
Both women wore heavy makeup reflective of their preferred fashion and whilst they were more than capable of dressing in denim jeans, work-shirts and boots to help with the chores or riding stock horses around the farm, when they were in the house they were always dressed to feminine perfection. They both liked to dress that way and Peter insisted on it.
Peter might be younger than them both but Meg's son had voracious appetites that both women were required to fill.
As soon as Peter had left for town Ramon and Daniel had settled on the porch of the bunkhouse and pulled out their bottle. When the acting foreman had bristled Ramon had flashed his knife and the foreman had backed off and taken the other workers with him out into the fields.
Ramon and Daniel knew that they would be fired as soon as Peter returned and the foreman ratted them out. They didn't care. There were plenty of other farms that would be willing to take them on because labour was scarce.
"How much you think we got comin'?" Ramon studied the tip of his cigarette.
"Two week's wages. We aint getting' a bonus that's for sure," Daniel sniggered.
"I reckon we can at least quadruple that with what we find in that farmhouse," Ramon postulated.
"The women are still in there. I can see their car," Daniel pointed at the farmhouse with his cigarette.
"They get on the phone to the sheriff before we clear the county we gonna get caught for sure," Daniel added.
"Then best we make sure they don't," Ramon eased himself out of chair and flicked his cigarette into the dust.
"What about that Mexican maid? I seen her around the yard sometimes," Daniel commented.
"I ain't fuckin' no chola border-cunt. If I want that I can always fuck my sister," Ramon snickered.
"You comin'?" he smiled down at his partner.
"Yeah... I'm comin'" Daniel grunted as he pushed himself out of the rickety chair.
*****
The women were nearly ready to leave. Rosa the nanny was upstairs with the babies. She had agreed to work overtime so the women could have dinner in town with Pete. It was usually a strictly enforced rule that Rosa was to be gone from the house by 5pm so that Peter could take his just rewards when he came home at six.
Peter would fuck either Meg or Millie in the kitchen-diner before dinner depending on whose turn it was. Peter would service the other woman that night in his bed whilst the other woman slept in the babies room. They had come to this arrangement soon after the babies were born. Peter was a proud father who loved his children but waiting the mandated six weeks before he could fuck his women had tested him.
Meg Balfour was wearing a navy-blue, knee-length pencil-skirt, a white fitted satin blouse, black four-inch high heels and seamed flesh-toned stockings. She would put on the matching jacket when they got to town. Underneath she was wearing a black satin and lace garter belt to hold up her stockings and matching full-cut panties and bra. Her lipstick was bright-red, heavy black mascara and eyeliner and her purple and mauve eyeshadow which emphasised her bright blue eyes.
Millie Ryan was wearing a long-sleeve teal shift micro-mini dress with round neck, sheer taupe pantyhose and wedge-heeled Mary-Jane's with ankle straps. Her makeup consisted of flicked upper eyeliner, matte green eyeshadow, false eyelashes with heavy mascara, coral-blushed cheeks, and pink lipstick. Her blonde hair was piled in a beehive and a pillbox hat to match her shift sat on the breakfast bar next to her coat.
"I'll go check on the kids while you start the car. Please take my jacket and purse and put them on the back seat," Meg said to Millie.
Although Millie was the older of the two, it was Meg's farm, inherited when her husband was declared deceased in absentia, and she was the lady of the house.
Millie had no problems with this arrangement because Peter treated the women equally and never showed favouritism. They compared notes on his love making techniques and were pleased to discover that Peter went to the same lengths with both women to ensure they were satisfied.
"The children are sleeping Señora Balfour," Rosa greeted Meg at the door to the nursery which had been Peter's room when he was a boy.
Peter had converted the room into a nursery, putting in a skylight window to brighten the room, painting it a bright yellow and building the cribs and cots himself. There was a double bed set against the wall to be used by whoever's duty it was to care for the children overnight. Peter was not to be disturbed. He worked long hard hours and needed his rest.
It had caused quite the scandal when both women became pregnant. Millie had blamed her pregnancy on a visit from her estranged husband who had taken his conjugal rights because their divorce was not yet finalised. Meg refused to name the father of her son but it was widely speculated that William Balfour's brother had knocked her up. Meg did nothing to dispel the rumour that Peter's uncle was the father of her child. Reggie Balfour lived in Houston and had only ever visited the farm once, looking for his missing brother. He had left after staying only two days, uncomfortable with what he had found, his menacing nephew ensuring that he did not feel welcome.
Rosa thought it suspicious. If the rumours were true about who had fathered the children, why had neither of the men in question ever visited the farm to see their children? She also wondered why the second bedroom was seldom used. Peter used the master bedroom and Rosa often found makeup on the pillows and sheets and sometimes nylons and panties tangled in the semen-stained sheets.
She was also very suspicious of the way Peter treated the babies. He treated the children more like his son and his daughter than his brother and his cousin. But if her suspicions were true then Peter was father of his own brother. Whenever the thought crossed her mind she invoked the sign of the cross; it was unthinkable!
Rosa was well paid. In fact she was paid more than double the going rate for a nanny-housekeeper. At first Peter had refused the pleas from his women to hire a nanny to help with the babies and the housework but when they told him that they wouldn't be able to keep themselves looking pretty for him and would be too tired to satiate his desires he soon relented. Rosa knew that her employment was conditional on her absolute silence and discretion and she was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"My precious boy," Meg whispered and gently kissed the forehead of her sleeping son.
Baby Paul was already starting to look like Peter.
"My pretty niece," she softly kissed baby Jessica on the cheek.
"We should be home by eight o'clock at the latest," Meg whispered to Rosa as she softly closed the door.
She was carrying her high heels so that they wouldn't click-clack on the wooden floors and wake the babies.
"I will keep them safe until you return señora. Enjoy your shopping and your evening. You and Señora Ryan have earned it if I may be so bold as to say so," Rosa smiled at Meg.
Meg smiled back and nodded. The women seldom went into town alone and when they did it was always together. Peter, like his father before him, did not like his women straying far.
Meg tiptoed down the stairs on stockinged feet and stopped at the bottom to put on her high heels. She hung onto the newel post for support and was too busy with the task to notice that Millie had not gone outside to start her Chevrolet Impala. The flashy car with its burgundy body and white roof, twin headlights and chrome trim and wheels was Millie's pride and joy. Instead Millie was standing in the doorway being held by her arms by two ruffians.
When Meg looked up her heart flew into her mouth and she bolted for the phone hanging on the kitchen wall. Her heart fell when she put the phone to her ear and heard only silence.
"I don't think you have any service Missus," Daniel Clutterbuck held up the knife he had used to cut the telephone line.
Ramon Ruiz reached behind him and threw the bolt on the front door. Meg knew instantly that she was trapped. She would never run away and leave the children anyway under any circumstances.
She looked at the two roughnecks dressed in their dirty blue-jeans, faded work shirts and scuffed boots. Both men were tanned by hours working the fields, they were lean and muscled. One was short, dark-skinned, with greasy black hair, and brown almond-shaped brown eyes. The other was tall, with sun-bleached blonde hair and watery blue eyes. Both men exuded danger.
"Both of you get over against the wall," Daniel pushed Millie towards her sister.
Meg glanced up at the shotgun hanging up on the wall-mount and took a tentative step forward.
"If I get to it first I'll stick that thing up your cunt and pull the trigger," Daniel hissed.
Meg knew that there was no way she would be able to get to the gun before the ruffian. She backed against the wall and hugged Millie close.
"Take whatever you want. I'll open the safe and give you the cash," Meg whimpered.
"Oh we are going to sister but first we're going to have some fun," Ramon chuckled, sauntering over and taking down the shotgun from the rack.
He inspected the weapon and broke it open and checked to see that it was loaded.
"What do you say Daniel?" Ramon looked questioningly at his partner.
"I think that's great idea Ramon," Daniel leered at the two women.
Both Meg and Millie knew what was coming; both men were tenting the crotches of their jeans.
"We have children!" Meg gasped.
As if that would make any difference to these two desperados.
"We know. We've seen your maid hanging the diapers on the line," Ramon hissed.
"Oh my god, Rosa!" Millie gasped and Meg gave her a hurtful look for betraying their housemaid.
"We know about your little brown chicka. I take it she's up there," Ramon pointed the shotgun at the stairs.
The women remained silent.
"Don't hurt our babies!" Meg cried out as Ramon began to ascend the stairs.
Daniel closed in on the women and put his finger to his lips.
When Ramon got to the top of the stairs the women heard Ramon and Rosa squabbling in Spanish. The house suddenly went deathly quiet and they heard the lock on the nursery door turn over. Ramon came back down the stairs holding the shotgun in one hand and a key in the other.
"Now we won't be disturbed and if you women behave yourselves your children will be safe. The little chicka is taking good care of them," Ramon put the key to the nursery door on the breakfast bar.
He broke open the shotgun and extracted the shells and put them in his pocket and put the shotgun down next to the key. He pulled a knife from his pocket and held it up in front of the women's faces.
"You are both very pretty and if you both behave yourselves you will stay that way. Daniel and I will enjoy a little visit with you and then we will be on our way," Ramon closed the knife and put it back in his pocket.
"What do you mean by a little visit?" Millie snapped.
Meg shook her head in annoyance and exasperation. It was obvious what they meant.
Ramon and Daniel just leered at the women.
Daniel put away his knife and settled into an armchair while Ramon took a seat on the couch.
"Which one do you want brother?" Ramon asked.
Both women felt faint.
"I kinda like the Betty Page looking girl," Daniel pointed at Meg.
"That's good cause I want the other bitch. I like mine a little older," Ramon ran his eyes over Millie's body.
Millie found it incredible that she actually felt a little jealous that her sister had been picked first and resented the jibe about her being older.
"Get over here ladies. You do right by us and your babies will remain sleeping soundly," Ramon crooked a finger at the two women.
"What do we do?" Millie whispered.
"Whatever they want. What else are we going to do?" Meg sighed.
Both women cautiously approached the men. Meg stood defiantly in front of Daniel with her hands on her hips, refusing to look at him and Millie stood before Ramon unable to look away from the huge bulge in the crotch of his jeans.
"Just do what they want Millie. We give them whatever they need and then we never speak of this day again," Meg turned to Millie, her blue eyes full of anger and despair.
Millie nodded balefully.
Daniel sat with his legs were open wide. He reached out and pulled Meg closer so that her knees were pressed against the edge of the chair. His hands firmly grasped her buttocks and she shivered with revulsion. She began to shake when he softly traced the backseams of her stockings with his fingers. She could smell the muskiness of him. It was similar to the smell Peter had on his body when he came home from working in the fields and took her bent over the dining room table.
She closed her eyes and tried to imagine that it was Peter whose fingers were circling the dark welts of her stockings under her skirt, whose knuckles were grazing her satin panty crotch.
Ramon pulled Millie down into his lap and pulled her face to his. She resisted when he tried to kiss her.
"The babies," Ramon whispered softly in her ear and she capitulated.
This time when Ramon pressed his lips to hers she didn't fight; she opened her lips when he insistently pressed his tongue against her mouth. She could feel his manhood pressing on her buttocks. Her micro-miniskirt had ridden up to the top of her thighs and her white nylon panties rustled against his coarse denim.
She twisted a little in his lap and Ramon twisted her back so that his long thick snake nested in the crease of her buttocks. She felt it pulsing through his jeans.
"You got my cock throbbin' like a sock full a grasshoppers honey," Ramon whispered in her ear.
"Look at your sister," Ramon turned Millie's head so that she was facing her sister.
Daniel had made Meg hold up her skirt and was stroking her stocking-sheathed legs, running his callused fingers up and down them. Meg was shaking and her eyes were screwed shut. She was silently mouthing something that Millie couldn't hear.The only way Meg could deal with the situation was to pretend that it was Peter's hands stroking her legs, circling the dark bands of her stockings, eliciting the warm soft sensuous tingles of pleasure from her thighs. It could not be the callous farmhand.
Daniel slid a finger along the seam of Meg's panties, pushing the satiny material into the folds of her vulva. He crooked his finger and began to softly circle her sex. Meg's knees began to buckle and her lips parted as she gasped.
"See... she likes it," Ramon whispered into Millie's ear.
Millie had been with many men. When her husband was working his way up the corporate ladder she had been propositioned by CEOs and corporate fat-cats who had made it clear that her husband's advancement was dependent on her opening her legs for them. Millie refused to be a meek plaything passed around from man to man and had become a predator, seducing men who had the status and ranking to elevate her husband's career. Her lily-livered weakling of a husband had given his tacit approval; never broaching the subject until Mille had taken a younger man into her bed for own pleasure.
Millie's husband had used her infidelity with a common pool-boy as an excuse to file for divorce and replaced her with his young, ravishingly beautiful secretary. It was such a cliché.
She knew that Meg had been with only two men: her husband and her son. Seeing her sister using whatever means and method she was employing to tolerate and endure what the sandy-haired man was doing to her set Millie's mind at ease. Millie was worried that her sister would freak out and then the men would become violent. Meg seemed to be enduring it. In fact from the little yelps and sharp hisses, she seemed to be enjoying it.
Ramon slid his hands along Millie's pantyhosed thighs, stroking them all the way from her knees to the little crease where her leg joined her torso. When he got there we would circle his fingers on her flimsy white nylon panties and then start all over again. Millie put her hand over his and at first Ramon thought she was trying to stop him but instead she guided his hand to front of her panties and placed it on her cunt.
Ramon smiled and Millie snuggled in his lap and kissed him deeply. His breath was rancid with liquor and cigarettes, his body musty with sweat and grime and his cock felt like a throbbing iron bar pressed into her ass. She was becoming wet. If she was going to be ravaged she would rather it be by some dark-skinned ruffian than some milksop corporate stooge.
Daniel found Meg's clitoris and rubbed her satin panties against the sensitive nub. His face was pressed against her thighs, her stocking rasping on his stubble. He could smell her perfume and underneath that he could smell her sex. Her panties were damp.
Meg still had her eyes closed and imagined that it was Peter stroking her most intimate parts. That it was her son who was evoking the delightful slivers of pleasure that radiated from her clitoris. That it was Peter's face pressed to her thighs, kissing and licking her stockings.
Daniel eased Meg back a step so he could stand. His fingers never left her crotch and Meg staggered back on her heels but Daniel caught her and held her close with his arm around her waist whilst his other hand stroked her tingling nubbin. He kissed her and Meg didn't resist. She was almost limp in his arms. He took a second to unbutton and push down his jeans so he could free his erect cock. He pressed it between Meg's thighs and she instinctively clamped her thighs shut around it.
Her silky sheer nylons felt magnificent against his tender flesh and Daniel left little silver snails-trails of pre-ejaculate on her stockings. He drove his tongue into Meg's mouth and she didn't resist. He took her hand and put it on his organ and she didn't resist. He snaked a finger inside her panties and circled her clitty and she didn't resist.
Ramon had Millie lying on the couch beneath him. He had made her unbutton her dress and he was suckling her nipples and lapping her pillowy breasts while Millie ran her fingers though his thick oily hair. His cock was pressed against her flimsy nylon panties which she wore over her pantyhose. The slippery panties slid over the gusset of her pantyhose as he thrust against her, evoking delicious waves of delight for them both.
Millie's panties and her pantyhose crotch were sodden with her juices and she was gasping and moaning as she lay underneath the coarse farmhand.
Meg could hear her sister moaning and she knew that it was pleasure, not pain her sister was feeling. Meg tried to imagine that it was Peter ravaging her sister not some Mexican bandit but then if that were so who was raping her?
Meg suddenly opened her eyes and the reality of the situation crashed into her. It was not her son who was making her feel like a slattern it was lowly ranch-hand whose caresses and kisses were inciting feelings of lust. She was being ravaged, despoiled, violated... raped. And she was enjoying it.
Meg pushed down the guilt and justified her actions to herself. If she gave this man everything he wanted he and his friend would leave her and her sister and their beloved children unharmed. It was time to make a deal with the devil.
Meg stopped being a rag doll and put one arm around the sandy-haired young man and returned his kisses, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. She felt the heft of his penis in her fingers and she began to stroke it, squeezing out little globules of precum whish she used to lubricate his shaft and bulbous head of his penis.
"Fuck me," she whispered wantonly.
Millie couldn't help but smile when she heard her sister ask her rapist to fuck her.
"Your sister wants it Cara Mia," Ramon looked up from between Millie's breasts.
"Me too," Millie entangled her fingers in Ramon's oily hair and dragged his face to hers so she could kiss him.
She helped him out of his clothes so that he was naked and then pulled him close when he reached for her. He lay her back down on the couch and she opened her arms and her legs for him.
Ramon nestled his cock in the crotch of Millie's panties and then eased aside the flimsy material and pressed it into the gusset of her pantyhose. His cock pressed the diaphanous nylon against her clitoris and Millie whimpered and held him there with her legs.
He pushed harder until his cock burst through the flimsy nylon and burrowed in the folds of Millie's cunt. She raked her painted nails along his back as he slid his long thick member inside her cuntal sheath.
Daniel was naked too. He was holding Meg close to him, his cock between her legs, rubbing it on her sheer stocking-tops. Meg was whimpering. Daniel didn't know if it was lust or shame and he didn't care. He turned Meg around pushed her into the chair. She fell into it holding onto the back for support.
As she did so Daniel moved in behind her, pulled her panties aside and slammed his cock into her cooch.
She was wet!
The fucking bitch was wet!
And she began to push back against him to meet his thrusts as he held her by her thighs and viciously fucked her. Meg was relieved that the ruffian was using her brutally because if he was gentle with her she wouldn't be able to justify the outright pleasure she was feeling as the man thrust his hard cock in and out of her dripping maw. She sobbed with the indignity of it but also with mounting pleasure that the man was eliciting from her tight, slick cunt that seemed to cling to his thick, veiny phallus as he drove it and out of her.
Meg looked guiltily over to her sister. What she saw was a relief. She was not alone in succumbing the rapists ministrations. Millie was more that cooperating.
Millie was lying on the couch with dark-skinned man between her legs. He was brutally fucking her, driving his cock into her making thwok, thwok, thwok, sounds as his flesh pounded into hers. Millie had her pantyhosed legs wrapped around the man and was drumming her heels on his back to encourage him. She was kissing him passionately. Her beehive hairstyle had become loose and her blonde hair hung around her heavily made-up face.
Meg gasped as she felt Daniel's hard cock press all the way inside her and he pulled back her hard against him. She pressed her buttocks into him and wriggled them as she felt him deposit his load deep in her vagina. Her orgasm erupted and she collapsed on the chair as it raced through her body. Daniel held her close as his cock shuddered inside her, he kissed her neck, tasting her perfume, feeling the women shudder with intensity of her orgasm. He smiled.
Millie's climax had been building slowly and it erupted just as Ramon planted his seen inside her. He rammed his cock viciously in and out of her tight cunt, kissed her hard and passionately. Millie rubbed her nylon-clad legs on his flesh and moaned like a whore as she came. She could feel Ramon's cock filling her tight sheath, quivering and swelling as his hot load emptied inside her.
Both women felt disgusted with themselves when the men had finally finished using their bodies. They clung to each other, quietly sobbing while the men took their time getting dressed.
"Stop that bullshit! You were both moaning like whores only seconds ago," Ramon swatted Millie on the ass.
"Ok. Now let's get to work partner," Ramon said to Daniel.
Now that the men had finished with the women true to their word and began to rob the house. Ramon made Meg open the safe.
"Hurry up lady, we haven't got all day," Ramon tapped Meg's ass with the flat blade of his knife as she fumbled with the tumbler.
"Shame that we're in a hurry, I wouldn't mind riding that pony," he slid his hand between Meg's legs and she shuddered.
Now that the ordeal was over Meg felt nothing but revulsion. She was disgusted with herself. She could justify giving into the sandy-haired man, not putting up fight, allowing him to take what he wanted. But how could she justify being complicit? How could she justify enjoying what the man did to her? She felt dirty. She felt sick. She felt soiled.
Millie was with Daniel in the dining room helping him put silverware into a sack. She didn't feel bad about losing the silver. The farm had made plenty during the cereal crop boom and the silver could easily be replaced.
"Jewellery?" Daniel asked.
Millie nodded towards the stairs.
"Let's go. Move that fat ass," Daniel pushed Millie up the stairs with his hands on her buttocks.
Millie knew that her ass wasn't fat. It was a beautiful bubble-butt that her nephew liked to cup in his hands and squeeze while he fucked her. She'd once gone on a diet and Peter had threatened to force feed her if she lost any weight off her breasts or her ass. Millie had stopped dieting.
Millie led Daniel to the second bedroom that the two sisters shared. Before the babies came there was only ever one of them sleeping in the big bed because the other would be in Peter's bed. Daniel wasn't smart enough to wonder why two grown sisters shared the same bedroom in a three-bedroom house.
But he was smart enough to recognise the good jewellery from the cheap costume stuff and made Millie put it in the sack. This too could be replaced but there were pieces there that had sentimental value.
"That's everything," Millie sighed, glad that this would soon be over.
"Not quite," Daniel said.
He grabbed Millie by the arm and spun her around and bent her over the bed. He dropped his jeans to his knees and came in behind her, pushing the hem of her dress up her waist. He plunged his cock inside her, easing aside her panties and snaking it through the hole that Ramon had made in her pantyhose. His cock slid inside her, slick as a knife through butter, her cunt was lubricated with Ramon's semen.
Daniel held Millie by her thighs and rutted away at her buttocks, grinding his pubis against the diaphanous nylon of her pantyhose. Millie grunted each time that he thrust. Daniel reached around and pushed his hand inside the waistband of her pantyhose and found her clit. He rubbed it hard as he jackhammered his cock in and out of her. Her vaginal juices began to flow and Daniel smiled as she became hotter and wetter, pushing her ass back to meet his thrusts.
He pulled her back into him and drove his cock all the way inside her and planted his seed deep inside her vaginal sheath. Millie shuddered as her orgasm exploded. It wasn't the prolonged drawn-out rapturous climax she had experienced with Ramon. It was a like a dirty wave suddenly washing over her and then receding.
Daniel pushed Millie off him and wiped his cock on the bedsheet. Millie pulled her sodden panties back into place and tugged down her dress.
Neither of them had said a word during the incident.
"Get your ass downstairs," Daniel grunted as he buckled his belt.
Millie led the way feeling guilty that she had allowed the other man to use her while her sister was being badgered by the Mexican who was forcing her to open the safe.
Her guilt dissipated when she came downstairs to find that Ramon had Meg lying on her back on the kitchen table with her skirt hiked up and her legs wrapped around his waist as he vigorously fucked her. Meg whimpered every time Ramon thrust. Millie wasn't sure if it was pleasure or pain until Meg turned her head sideways and looked at her sister.
A knowing look of shame passed between them.
"Oh yes! Yes! Yes!" Ramon howled as he came.
Meg held him close, her stocking-sheathed legs rubbing on his flanks. Her heels rattled together as she orgasmed trying unsuccessfully to stifle the moans of pleasure escaping her lips.
"Keys," Daniel poked Millie in the ribs.
She went to her purse and found the keys to her beloved Impala and handed them over to Daniel. That was something that couldn't be replaced. She loved that car.
"Thank you ladies, it has been a pleasure," Ramon grinned at both women as he exited the front door.
Meg pretended to be busy straightening her skirt. She didn't want to look the men in the eyes.
"Yes thank you for everything. Tell Petey that we really enjoyed your company. Or don't. That's up for you to decide," Daniel chuckled and followed his partner in crime out the door.
Daniel stabbed the front tire on Rosa's beat-up old pickup as he ran to the Impala which Ramon had idling in the driveway. The tire hissed as it slowly became flat.
Millie went to the door and watched the Impala speed away down the driveway leaving a trail of dust.
"What do we do now?" Meg put her hand on her sister's shoulder.
"We fix the flat on Rosa's pickup and one of us drives into town and tells Peter that we've been robbed," Millie said almost matter-of-factly.
"What about... you know," Meg began to whimper.
"Will it make Peter feel any better? Will it help the situation? We can tell Peter that we had no choice but to cooperate, we can tell the sheriff that we were raped. But we are unharmed. Where are the cuts and bruises? Where are the scratches and contusions? Men will be men. Their pity will turn to disgust. Do you want Peter to know what those men did to you?" Millie said coldly.
Meg shook her head.
"Get cleaned up and fix your makeup. I'll change the tire on Rosa's pickup and then clean myself up and get changed. I'll drive into town; you stay with the children," Millie took charge.
"What about Rosa?" Meg whispered.
"She didn't see anything. We leave her locked in the nursery with the kids until we make ourselves look presentable," Millie replied.
"We could drive out to the fields and tell the foreman what happened," Meg suggested.
Millie just shook her head and pushed her sister towards the stairs.
*****
Peter was standing on the raised sidewalk outside of the Co-op when Millie pulled up in Rosa's pickup and he immediately knew that something was wrong. She was on her own, driving Rosa's car and she appeared dishevelled: her jacket was misbuttoned, her makeup wasn't quite right and her pantyhose had a runner. Millie would never present herself in such a way, especially for Peter.
Peter took her by the elbow and guided her to his car and assisted her into passenger seat. He climbed in the driver's seat and closed the door.
"Tell me!" he grunted.
"Those two farmhands... the Mexican and the sandy-haired guy... Ramon and Daniel? They robbed us," Millie gasped breathlessly.
Peter's hackles rose. How did his women know anything about his farmhands, especially their names? He let her continue.
"They threatened to hurt our children unless Meg opened the safe and I handed over our jewellery. They stole my Impala," Millie said almost hysterically.
"Ok calm down. Did they hurt you or Meg and the children?" Peter squeezed Millie's arm.
Millie shook her head vehemently.
"What else... what else did they do?" Peter asked through gritted teeth.
Millie turned away from him and shook her head, tears sprinkling from her eyes.
"What else?" Peter squeezed her upper arm.
"Nothing! They did nothing else! They had knives and they pointed the shotgun at us and made Meg empty the safe. They took the good silverware and made me go upstairs and get the jewellery," Millie hissed.
"And the kids are ok?" he squeezed her arm again.
"They locked Rosa in the nursery with them while they robbed us," Millie croaked, her voice hoarse.
"Do we tell the sheriff?" Millie looked at him beseechingly.
The question was rhetorical. The last thing any of them wanted was the sheriff poking around the ranch. There were too many secrets that a trained investigator was likely to overturn, not the least being their sleeping arrangements. But the safe had contained a month's wages for the farmhands and operating expenses for the farm; not an insignificant amount of money and Peter had been generous with his mother and his aunt, buying them both expensive jewellery for special occasions.
Peter did some mental arithmetic. There was plenty in the bank to cover their losses but the loss was consequential and they would be unable to make an insurance claim without involving the sheriff. He was also almost certain that Millie wasn't telling him everything, but that would have to wait for later. If what had happened was what he thought had happened the rage would cloud his judgement.
"Follow me back to the farm in Rosa's truck. Don't tell anybody anything," Peter said solemnly.
'As if there was anyone to tell?' Millie thought.
Pete, ever the gentleman, got out of his truck and went around the other side and opened the door and helped Millie step down. He escorted her to Rosa's truck and opened the door for her. He checked that no one was looking and quickly kissed his aunt on the lips.
"No matter what has happened and what happens next, know that I love you Millie," he kissed her again; this time taking a risk and lingering on her lips.
"I love you too Petey," Millie gave him a wan smile.
She had never felt so guilty in her life. She had betrayed the love of her life.
Peter arrived at the farm ahead of Millie and raced into the house, almost stumbling on the porch. Meg was in his study sitting at his desk, scribbling on a writing pad.
Peter raced over and pulled her out of the chair and into his arms and kissed her. Meg kept her lips closed and pushed him away.
"Rosa! Pete, Rosa's still here!" Meg hissed as she smoothed out her apron.
His mother was dressed in a green housedress with a frilly white apron over it and as was usual her makeup and hair was perfect. She was wearing nylons and heels but she was not exuding her usual sensuality. The dress was the sort of thing she wore on the rare occasion that they had visitors or went into town to do shopping. Meg jokingly referred to it as her 'Sunday, going to meetings' dress.
"I'm trying to work out exactly how much they got away with," Meg sat back down and tapped away at the LCD calculator Peter had purchased for her only recently.
"That doesn't matter mom," Peter said through gritted teeth.
Rosa came downstairs carrying a child in each of her arms and Peter went over and took his son and held him close and kissed his forehead. Then he handed Paul back to Rosa and he took Jessica from her and held his daughter in his arms and kissed her cheek.
"Your brother and your cousin are safe Senor Balfour. I cared for them while the banditos robbed the house. Your mother and aunt were very brave Senor," Rosa couldn't quite meet Peter's gaze.
Rosa had been locked in the nursery throughout the ordeal but she knew that the two roughnecks had been in the house way too long to just be robbing the occupants. When Rosa was finally released from the nursery she noticed that both women had changed their clothes and they were both behaving suspiciously for women who had just been robbed. They were calculating and cold; there was no outrage.
Rosa had heard Millie and Daniel in the second bedroom across the hall from the nursery when he was making her hand over the jewellery. Although not much was said the sounds of sex were unmistakeable as was the odour when she went in there to make the bed when things had settled down. The semen stains on the sheet were fresh.
Rosa might behave like she was a sweet catholic girl but her husband had educated her in the bedroom and she had a secret lover for whom she did things she would never do for her husband. Her lover paid her for the privilege.
"The man who locked me in the nursery had a shotgun and threatened to kill everyone if we didn't do as he say. Señora Margaret and Millicent were very brave and they saved us all by cooperating," Rosa added.
Peter pulled his wallet from his pocket. He had been to the bank before he had attended to his other business and was flush. He took out one hundred dollars.
"Take this Rosa and tell no one what happened here today," Peter held out the bills.
It was the equivalent of a month's salary and Rosa eyed the bills hungrily.
"There is no need Senor Balfour; my lips are sealed," Rosa said earnestly.
Peter stuffed the notes in Rosa's hand.
"Tell no one," he said gruffly and Rosa nodded.
"I'll be gone for a little while. A couple of days at most hopefully. While I'm gone please make sure my mother and my aunt are looked after, they have been through quite an ordeal," Peter patted Rosa's shoulder.
"I can stay the night if you want Senor?" Rosa offered.
"That won't be necessary but be extra courteous to them while you are here during the day," Peter squeezed her shoulder gently.
Peter went back into the study where Millie now sat on the sofa nervously biting her nails. Peter closed the door and went over to his gun safe and unlocked the high-tensile steel box bolted to the farmhouse's foundations. Ramon had tried to make Meg open it after she had opened the safe but she had told him that only Peter had the key. Her punishment was to be fucked on the kitchen table.
He took out a semi-automatic pistol and a Winchester Model 1894 lever-action rifle and two boxes of ammunition.
"I'll be gone for a few of days. Stay inside the house. Rosa will keep you company and I'll have my foreman keep an eye on the property," Peter said gruffly, locking the safe.
"Where are you going?" Meg looked alarmed.
Peter just gave each of the women a dour look.
"Come here," he pulled Millie into his arms and kissed her deeply.
She responded and hooked a leg around him and purred when he stroked her thigh. Peter was tempted to take his aunt upstairs but there was no time to waste.
"Mom?" he opened his arms and Meg got up reluctantly from behind the desk and came to him.
Meg kissed him chastely on the lips, refusing to open her mouth despite his insistence. She winced when he squeezed her buttocks and she felt stiff in his embrace. He had no time to deal with the issue now.
"I love you both. Take care of yourselves and my children," he said gruffly and left the room.
Peter drove out into the fields and met up with his acting foreman William Russell on pretext of checking on the corn harvest.
"Thought you were in town on business all day?" William commented.
"Something came up," Peter's tone was non-committal.
"I'm heading off for a couple of days. Keep an eye on the farmhouse please Bill. No need to disturb the women but just make sure things are quiet," Peter said.
"That reminds me... those two drifters you hired, the Mexican and his mouthy friend. They didn't come to work this morning, preferred to hit the bottle," William kicked the dust at his feet and clenched his fists.
"Don't worry about them, they're gone," Peter said bitterly and turned back to his truck.
*****
Peter returned to the farm four days later early on a Friday morning. He was dirty, tired and grim faced. Millie raced to the door when she heard his pickup pull up outside. He'd called from a small town on the county line and Millie had told Rosa to go home and not come back until Monday. The family wanted to spend some time together alone.
Millie was dressed to please her nephew: a red leather miniskirt, white satin blouse, shiny red high heels, glossy tan pantyhose, heavy makeup and her blonde hair was teased out.
Peter had expected his mother to meet him at the door but Millie would do.
"Rosa won't be back until Monday," were the first words out of Millie's mouth.
"Come," Peter took Millie by the wrist and half-dragged her up the stairs.
He threw her on his bed and fell on top of her, kissing her brutally, his hands roaming over her body. Millie kissed him passionately; she could feel his hard cock pressing against her belly.
Peter stopped only long enough to strip naked while Millie lay panting on the bed watching him. She admired her nephew's lean, muscled body, the tan lines from working in the fields, the small scars from minor accidents that farmers were prone to, his long sun-bleached hair that needed cutting but most of all she admired the huge rock-hard penis jutting from his groin like a spear.
Millie felt her juices flow and she began to remove her blouse.
"Don't bother. We don't have time," Peter stood at the edge of the bed and pulled Millie up into his arms so he could kiss her.
Her hand went intuitively to his groin and cupped his sac. She gently squeezed it and then her fingers found his manhood. She loved her nephew's cock. It was hard and sleek like an iron bar, long straight and veiny with a bulbous head that seemed to constantly leak precum when he was erect.
Peter crushed her lips with his and drove his tongue into her mouth. Peter was filthy from the road. He smelled of sweat, dust and diesel, his hair was greasy, his beard scratched her delicate skin and Millie loved it. She loved the funk, the muskiness, the manliness of him. When Peter put his hand under her skirt he could feel that Millie's delicate nylon panties were saturated. Although she had only recently bathed he could smell her cunt.
Peter broke the kiss and looked his into his aunt's eyes.
"Where is my mother? Why isn't she here to greet her son," he asked.
They both looked at the closed bedroom door across the hall.
"She's sleeping Petey. She's having a hard time getting over the robbery. She feels guilty," Millie explained.
"I found them in El Paso waiting to cross the border into Mexico. I followed their trail all the way. They drank and whored themselves across five states bragging to lowlifes in dingy bars that they had robbed two women in a farmhouse in Iowa and fucked them both before they left," Peter said through gritted teeth.
Millie couldn't look at him. She stared at the floor.
"It was, what it was, nephew of mine. Your Ma and I did what we had to do to survive," Millie's eyes filled with tears.
"Your son and your daughter were upstairs and they had knives and a gun," Millie whispered.
"Is that why mom was so uptight before I left? Is that why she's still in bed now?" Peter lifted Millie's face so she had to look at him.
Millie nodded.
"It's ok. I understand. I blame myself for hiring those two swine. You women only did what you had to do to protect yourselves and my children," Peter sighed.
"Was it awful?" Peter asked.
Millie shuddered. Peter took the gesture for shame but it was actually guilt. Millie recalled Ramon's cock pounding in and out of cunt as she lay beneath him moaning like a slattern with her legs locked around him and her arms around his neck encouraging him.
Peter just nodded and eased Millie back down on the bed and down beside her.
He kissed his aunt, his fingers snaking under her skirt to find her hot moist folds through her diaphanous nylon panties and sleek pantyhose. He pressed on the special place that always made Millie shudder with desire. She opened her mouth wide and used her tongue, taking her nephew's cock in her hand, slowly stroking it. She rubbed it on her thighs knowing that Peter loved the feel of her pantyhose on his throbbing member.
He rolled on top of her and tore open her blouse and impatiently pushed up her brassiere so he could lap at Millie's soft globes and berry-like nipples. Millie gasped and cradled her nephew's head to her breasts while she slowly stroked his pulsing phallus.
Peter followed the hollow of Millie's neck back up to her mouth with his tongue and kissed her passionately. She opened her legs wide so that Peter could mount her. He pushed her skirt out of the way and pressed his cock into her flimsy nylon panties. He rubbed it against her sodden sex, delighting in the feel of the slinky material on his sensitive cock.
Millie encouraged him, lifting her hips and grinding her pubis against his rock-hard cock, her legs locked around him, her fingernails raking his back. He rutted at her twat through the silken layers of panty and pantyhose until Millie was trembling beneath him, craving his cock inside her.
She pressed a fingernail into the crotch of her pantyhose and made a little hole and guided Peter's cock to it. The hole widened as Peter's cock pushed through it and nestled in the folds of his aunt's moist labia.
"Fuck the rape out of me Petey," Millie whispered.
Peter obliged and thrust his huge penis all the way inside his aunt, making her gasp. She locked her legs around his body and rubbed her nylon-sheathed calves on his tender flanks and dragged her high heels along the small of his back. She drove her tongue into his mouth to stifle the screams of wanton lust.
Peter felt the folds of her sex open like the petals of a flower as he entered her. Millie gasped and shuddered as his penis pushed its way into her tight cuntal sheath. Millie might be in her forties but she had the cunt of sixteen year old. Her vagina gripped his solid phallus as it forced itself all the way inside Millie until his sac rested on the crotch of her panties.
Millie held on as her nephew fucked her slowly at first but quickly rose to a crescendo. He hadn't had sex for four days and his hunger was insatiable. Millie felt Peter's cock expanding inside her and she knew he was close. She ground her pubic mound against his so that her clitoris was pressing on his pubis through the gossamer fabric of her panties and hose. Waves of delight radiated from her clitoris as she orgasmed.
She began to sob with the absolute delight of it. The feel of her young strong nephew lying on top of her, his manhood deep inside her filling her with his scalding issue as he too climaxed was overwhelming. The texture of his sinewy flesh, the animal-like smell of his unwashed body, his full lips pressed against hers, his tongue fluttering in her mouth, it was delightful and exotic, it was crude and yet loving... it was nirvana.
Peter stayed inside Millie and kissed her softly. He kissed the tip of her nose. He kissed her eyelids. He kissed her cheeks. He kissed her mouth.
"I love you Aunt Millie. No matter what has happened I love you with all my heart," he brushed the blonde hair from her bright blue eyes as he looked lovingly into them.
"I love you too Petey and I always will, no matter what," she smiled up at him.
Peter nuzzled and cuddled his aunt for a while until his flaccid organ fell out of her sopping cunt and then he reluctantly climbed off her despite Millie's protests.
"I'm going to take a bath and wash off the road. Send my mother in," Peter said as he walked naked from the bedroom stopping briefly to check on his son and daughter who were sleeping in the nursery.
*****
Meg heard the soft rap of her sister's knuckles on the bedroom door before it slowly opened. She was curled up in the bed with the curtains closed.
"Meg? Are you awake?" Millie whispered.
Meg could smell her sister's perfume but she could also smell the musty stank of semen and freshly fucked cunt. She lifted her head and looked at Millie through the gloom.
Millie's blouse was open, the buttons missing, her hair was messed and her lipstick was smeared around her mouth. A runner ran down one leg of her stocking and she'd accidently tucked the back of her skirt into the waistband of her pantyhose.
"Petey's home," Millie said in that sing-song voice that sometimes grated on Meg's nerves.
"Of course he's home. You stink of him! You look like a whore! Don't you think I heard you both rutting like animals on my bed!" Meg hissed.
"It's Peter's bed Meg. It's been Peter's bed ever since his father went away," Millie said evenly.
"He's taking a bath and he wants you to go to him," Millie tried to sound soothing.
"I'm his mother not his nanny!" Meg hissed.
"You know what you are and I know what I am. Nothing has changed. We both love Peter and he loves us both," Millie said softly.
"He knows what happened Meg," Millie whispered.
Meg froze. She couldn't breathe.
"He doesn't know the details but he knows we were both raped by those animals," Millie sat on the edge of the bed and caressed Meg's cheek.
"Were we Millie? That's not really how I remember it," Meg hissed.
"Of course we were. We may not have been kicked and punched or hogtied and held down but we were forced. We had no choice," Millie moved her hand to her sister's hair and stroked it gently.
"We did what we did to save ourselves and our children. To save our family Meg. Don't let what happened destroy what we have with Pete.
Meg had always wanted her sister and the children to feel the connection with her eldest son. She wanted them to feel safe, to feel loved. Nothing bad happened to people who felt loved... but sometimes it did. She had been raped... or had she? She could tell herself that she had only done what she had done to keep her family safe. But why did she become wet when she remembered Daniel holding her hips as he rutted her from behind, his pubis banging into her soft buttocks as he thrust himself deep inside her cunt? Why did her panties become moist every time she looked at the kitchen table and recalled lying on it with her legs spread wide while the Mexican fucked her into an orgasmic frenzy?
Meg threw off the covers and pulled a pink rayon negligee over her head.
She started walking to the door.
"Meg! What are you doing? You can't go to him like that! Brush your hair, fix your makeup, put on some stockings and heels. You know what he wants!" Millie admonished her sister.
Meg ignored her sister and padded down the hallway to the bathroom.
Peter was lying in the tub enveloped in a sea of suds.
"Hi mom," he smiled at her when she entered.
He noted how she was dressed but decided not to say anything because of what had happened. She'd needed some time to get over it.
Meg gave him a dour smile and knelt next to the bath. She shied away when he tried to kiss her.
Her hand disappeared into the suds and found his snake-like appendage between his legs. Peter was instantly hard to his mother's touch.
Peter couldn't breathe. His mother's negligee had ridden up when she got down on her knees and he could see her mound nestled between her luscious thighs, he could see the globes of her big breasts, filled with milk to nurture his son.
Margaret stroked her son's appendage until his engorged manhood poked up through the sea of foam. It was slowly pulsating, a bead of pre-ejaculate oozed from the eye as she squeezed it.
Peter recalled the first time his mother had done this. It had been an accident. He was just eighteen years old and she had come into the bathroom to say goodnight and found him erect and embarrassed that he was. It was the first time she had seen him erect and her son's penis was huge and she couldn't take her eyes off it. She had instinctively reached out for it, it was a spontaneous gesture.
Peter had gasped when his mother wrapped her long fingers softly around his cock. A pearl of semen oozed had from the eye of his penis and Meg was so enraptured that she had she leaned in to take a closer at it.
"Oh dear! Gracious me! Oh my goodness!" his mother had squealed innocently when her son's cock spasmed and a geyser of scalding ejaculate splattered in her face.
The next spurt had sprayed into her hair and the following one doused her bosom. Impulsively and unconsciously she had gripped her son's cock tighter in an innate reaction to his ejaculation. She had inadvertently milked her son of his issue.
His mother had burst out laughing trying to make joke out of it.
"Well that wasn't supposed to happen," she had giggled and made him promise not tell his father.
The memory of the event and the feel of his mother's fingers lazily stroking his phallus caused him to unintentionally and spontaneously orgasm.
Ropes of semen flew from his juddering cock. Gobbets of his steaming spunk spattered on his mother's face. A second stream of sticky semen sprayed into her jet-black hair. Another dollop splattered on her neck and ran down between her breasts. The last of his issue doused her pink negligee.
Meg just knelt there, desultory stroking her son's penis, staring into space, saying nothing.
It was only when Peter removed her hand that Meg realised what had happened.
"Oh. Well that's that then," Meg rinsed her hand in the suds to wash off her son's ejaculate and then reached for a towel to mop up the remaining jism from her face and hair.
"What's wrong mom?" Peter reached for her but Meg pulled back.
"Nothing's wrong son. I've done what you wanted haven't I? I've satisfied your lust haven't I? I've done what men insist that I do. What men demand that I do. What your father demanded me to do. What his son demands me to do. What all fucking men demand me to do!" Meg turned away and slammed the door behind her as she left.
Peter climbed out of the bath and wrapped a towel around his waist and followed his mother down the hall. He caught up with her and pushed her against the wall and leaned into her.
"This will not do mom!" his lips were close to hers.
"Get yourself cleaned up and get dressed how I like you to. How you like to. When you have your temper under control come downstairs, I'll get aunt Millie to make lunch," Peter leaned in to kiss her but she turned her face away.
Peter forced her to face him and pressed his lips to hers. He slipped his hand under her negligee and Meg slammed her legs closed. He forced his hand between her thighs and opened her labia and circled her clitoris. Meg gasped and reflexively opened her legs.
Peter kissed her deeply, using his tongue as he circled her tender nubbin. When she became wet he slipped a finger inside his mother, then another. He worked his fingers inside her, finding that special place that he hit with his glans when they fucked. When he found it Meg shuddered and her knees began to buckle. Peter worked his fingers inside his mother's sopping maw while he pressed harder on her clitoris.
A moan escaped Meg's lips around their deep kiss and her whole body convulsed as she orgasmed. Meg collapsed with the intensity of her climax and Peter let his mother slide down the wall and curl in an orgasmic ball.
Make yourself presentable and I'll see you downstairs mother," Peter said, his voice void of emotion.
He needed to fix his mother and soon, before she descended into a sea of despair, guilt and self-loathing.
Meg came downstairs about an hour later.
She was wearing full makeup, earrings and a necklace and her black hair was worn in a bob with bangs just above her big blue eyes. She was wearing a navy-blue, knee-length pencil-skirt, a white fitted satin blouse, black four-inch high heels and seamed flesh-toned stockings. A miasma of perfume announced her arrival. Meg's pretty face was sullen, set in a grimace.
Peter was sitting at the kitchen table eating a sandwich the size of a doorstep. He was wolfing it down, hungry from the road. Millie sat beside her nephew. She topped up his coffee and poured fresh cream into it and stirred it. Peter reached out and caressed his aunt's cheek in a gesture of gratitude that made Meg instantly jealous.
She had never felt jealous of her sister. Peter loved them both equally and in fact if anything he sometimes favoured his mother.
Meg couldn't sit at the table. Looking at reminded her of the feel of the hard wood on her back as she lay on top of it with her legs wide open, moaning like a whore while Ramon Ruiz stood at the end of the table fucking her with his big cock.
It was the same table that her husband used to bend her over and fuck her when he came home from the fields every day at 6pm. When William Belfour had disappeared and his son Peter had taken over the farm he had taken on all of his father's duties which included fucking his mother every day at 6pm sharp bent over that very table.
Meg shuddered and went over to the breakfast bar and poured herself a cup of coffee and then she leaned back against it, wishing life could return to normal.
She watched Millie fuss around Pete, cleaning up around him, taking his plate and napkin over to the sink. Peter met his mother's gaze and smiled and she couldn't help but smile back. Her son was so handsome and loving. She just wished she could rid herself of the ball of poisonous guilt and shame that was festering inside her.
There was suddenly a commotion: the rattle of gears, the hiss of brakes, the clattering of chains against metal. Millie and Meg raced to the windows and looked outside.
Millie squealed like a schoolgirl and raced over and kissed Peter all over his face.
"You wonderful, thoughtful young man!" she playfully mussed his hair and ran to the door.
Outside in the courtyard a flatbed truck had pulled up. On the tray, tied down with ratchet clamps, was Millie's Chevrolet Impala. It had been cleaned and detailed and the sun glistened off its burgundy body and white roof, twin headlights and chrome trim and wheels.
Millie ran outside to supervise the unloading of her pride and joy. Meg had returned to kitchen and looked at Peter over the rim of her coffee cup.
"You found the Impala," Meg said rhetorically.
"Yes. I had it trucked up from El Paso. I paid to have it cleaned and polished inside and out and had it trucked back up here as soon as possible," Peter rose up from the table.
"So you caught up with them then?" another rhetorical question.
"Come with me," Peter took his mother by the wrist and pulled her after him.
He led her outside past Millie who was harassing the truck driver who was unloading the Impala quite professionally but not to Millie's insistent perfection.
Peter smiled and shook his head and Meg couldn't help but smile with him.
He led Meg across the courtyard to where his olive green pickup sat parked under the carport. Meg noticed the pools of dried blood in the tray and she shivered.
"I hit a deer," Peter said by way of explanation.
"Here. Take this," Peter opened the door of the pickup and handed Meg a sack.
Meg looked inside it and recognised her and Millie's jewellery. Peter put a leather saddlebag over his shoulder and opened the glove compartment and took out his semi-automatic pistol which he tucked in his belt. He took the Winchester rifle out of the rack and kicked the door shut. Meg followed him back to the house.
Peter went straight to the study where he put the weapons on the floor next his gun safe. Meg noted that they had been recently cleaned and she could smell the fresh gun oil on them.
"Put the sack on the desk," Peter said gruffly.
Meg did as she was told and Peter came over with the saddlebag. He opened the saddlebag and shook it. Bundles of cash spilled onto the desktop. He lifted the sack and shook that too and all of Meg's and Millie's jewellery spilled out on top of the cash.
"They fenced the silverware in Oklahoma but we can always buy more. It's only stuff," Peter moved in behind his mother and rested his hands on her shoulders.
"I recovered most of the cash and all of your jewellery," Peter massaged his mother's shoulders.
"We have everything back," Peter whispered in her ear.
"Not everything Petey. There are some things we will never get back. There are some things that they took from us that are irreplaceable. I can picture them sitting in bar somewhere drinking whisky and laughing about what they did to Millie and I," Meg whispered.
Peter gripped his mother's wrist in vice-like grip and began to drag her from the room.
"This has got to stop! Come with me!" Peter dragged his mother behind him.
She stumbled but didn't fall all the way to the floor because Peter was too strong. He continued to drag her to the door and she scrambled on her feet behind him.
"Peter! Stop this! I'm your mother!" Meg wailed.
Peter ignored his mother and dragged her to his pickup. Millie was too busy inspecting her Impala to notice.
Peter pushed Meg into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut and jumped into the truck and fired it up. He over-revved the engine and threw out a plume of dust and gravel as he sped away from the farmhouse.
They drove in silence through fields of corn and down a dusty track until they came to a copse of unworkable land located roughly in the middle of the farm. Meg had never been here before but her late husband had complained to her about the unusable small parcel of arid, scrubby land that was strewn with boulders and knotted Honey Locust.
Peter parked the truck and pulled Meg out of the passenger door and dragged her deep into the centre of the copse. He let go of her and began to madly tug on a pile of weather-beaten branches until he exposed what lay beneath the mound of dried dead vegetation.
Meg gasped when she saw her husband's old pickup, now almost unrecognisable as it lay rusting and slowly disintegrating. Peter pointed to a mound of dirt beside the rusting wreck. The hump of sand and soil had collapsed over the years but it still resembled a grave.
Peter turned and looked at his mother and saw the knowing look on her face.
"William," she whispered.
Meg and always suspected... no deep down she knew that her son had taken care of her violent and abusive alcoholic husband but she would never admit it to herself.
Peter pointed to the two fresh mounds of soil beside it.
"Their days of drinking whiskey and talking abominably about the two women I love more than anything in this world are done," Peter said gruffly.
He gathered up the branches and brushwood and began to cover the rusted remains of the old pickup. Meg bent down and began to gather up mounds of undergrowth to throw on top, oblivious to the damage it was doing to her clothes.
"You don't have to do that mother," Peter tried to take the armload of small branches from her.
She shrugged him off and continued to help cover the old wreck. When they had finished she approached the two fresh graves and stared at them with pure hatred.
Peter was stunned when she squatted, pulled down her underwear and pissed on the graves. She went back to the truck and climbed in without saying a word.
Peter began to drive back to the farmhouse but when they passed a grassy clearing next to a creek bank Meg sidled up to Peter and lifted his hand and put it on her leg. She put her hand down into his crotch and whispered in his ear.
"Pull over," she nipped his earlobe.
Peter stopped the truck next to the creek.
"Come with me. Bring the blanket," Meg opened the door.
Peter followed Meg to the grassy clearing and tossed the throw rug on the soft green grass under the shade of a big tree right beside the creek bank.
"I don't want this to take long son. I want you to take me home and make love to me in our bed and make me feel safe but I need something from you now," Meg sat on the rug and hiked up her skirt
She lay back and opened her legs.
Peter was instantly erect when he saw the tops of his mother's creamy white thighs above the dark bands of her stockings and her pink cunt-lips underneath her translucent white panties.
Peter dropped his jeans and fell on his mother.
His cock probed between her legs jabbing at the diaphanous fabric of her panties as it sought her cunt. Meg gripped her son's cock and eased it inside her panties and nestled it in her swollen wet labia.
"Fuck me son. Fuck the rape out of me," she bit his earlobe and lifted her buttocks, impaling herself on her son's rampant member.
It wasn't lost on Peter that his aunt had used those exact same words.
Peter filled his mother's vagina with his steel-like phallus. He had missed her embrace and the yearning in him ran deep. His mother lifted her legs and wrapped them around his torso, pushing his shirt out of the way so that her silky nylons caressed his bare flesh. She knew that Peter loved the feel of stockings on his skin. She opened her mouth and Peter tasted her lipstick as he kissed his mother deeply, hardly daring to move because he was so close to climax.
Meg could sense her son's heightened sexual arousal but she wanted to feel him seed her. She wanted to feel her son's cock quiver and throb as he ejaculated deep inside his mother.
Meg squeezed her cunt and milked Peter of his seed. She began to cry as she orgasmed and Peter lapped her tears and kissed her again. They were barely moving. Mother and son locked together in a loving embrace. He lying on top of her with her skirt hiked up, she with her legs and arms wrapped around her son's body as she encouraged him to deposit his semen inside her tight wet passage. They kissed softly and lay like that, feeling the afternoon shade cool their bodies, listening to the babbling creek and the hum of the insects, secure in their love for each other.
Peter had fucked the rape out of his mother and his aunt he would do it again and again every day of his life.
The End
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone